


Oceanography

by phalangine



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Disabled Character, Get Together, M/M, Underwater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:49:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7851367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Guard Captain Shaw defected," Adler tells him shortly.</p><p>Charles briefly considers feigning surprise out of respect for the post but finds he doesn’t have it in him. "Did he give any explanation why,” he asks wearily, “or was it just the obvious?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oceanography

_Systems compromised._

"I know!" Charles shouts. One panel of his ship's controls is sparking. The interface link is burning against his back, hot enough that he can almost hear his training officer screaming at him to disengage, and both of his legs are going numb.

 _That’s probably a bad sign,_ he thinks inanely.

All around him, the sea is filled with Hellfire combat ships.

_That’s definitely worse._

Behind him, something crashes to the floor.

_Systems critical._

"Well, Cerebro," Charles tells his ship tiredly, "we had a good run, didn’t we? Smashed a hell of a lot of Hellfire bastards right into the depths." Not enough of them, clearly, given there are still enough to have Cerebro surrounded.

_Systems critical._

"Yes, I rather gathered that from the fact that we’re on fire." Sighing, Charles takes his helmet off and scrubs a hand through his hair. The ship’s end of the interface crackles. "Cerebro, can you still recognize me?"

_Pilot recognized: Charles Xavier._

"Good. Now initiate Emergency Protocol: Professor if you would."

_Protocol initiating._

Ahead, the wall of Hellfire ships glows as they engage their weapons.

"You can finish any time now."

_Protocol engaging._

The red glow of Hellfire's infamous plasma blasters intensifies, illuminating the ocean with a sickly maroon glow. The scorpion-like ships raise and aim their aft weapons as one.

"Cerebro, you know I hate to hurry you, but could you possibly hurry it up?"

_Protocol engaging._

“Come on…”

The water between Charles and Hellfire is so red it resembles hot lava more than water.

_Protocol engaged._

"Finally! Deal with this, Hellfire!" Charles crows over the open link, ignoring the flare of pain that accompanies Cerebro engaging its single offensive weapon.

The EMP Cerebro lets loose deploys nearly simultaneously as the Hellfire force fires on him. The last thing Charles sees is the red light of the laser blasts as Cerebro says, calm as you please, _Systems fucked._

 

**_xxx_ **

 

_Five years later_

"Charles," Erik asks, voice tight, "what in the depths happened to your chair?"

"It's McCoy's latest model," Charles says happily, enjoying the invention and his friend's reaction to it. "We call it an ATC. All terrain chair."

Erik eyes the chair skeptically. "Why does it exist? Westchester has streets. There’s mud out in the Salems, but you can’t tell me you need a tank when you never go there."

"Honestly, old friend, where's your sense of adventure?” Charles bites his cheek, unable to remain serious as he adds, “Oh, dear. Is it because you're getting old? The war guard will do that to a man. Too much fighting, not enough drinking."

"You do realize the home guard is the reason you’re paralyzed."

"Ah, but I did get a statue out of it. Quite a nice one, too. Very distinguished." Charles beams, knowing it will irritate his friend. "And I got this groovy chair. What have you got, Erik? Other than a flight stick up your backside, of course."

"I should have let you die out there."

"Please. Without me, you'd just be griping about someone else."

Erik rolls his eyes, but they both know Charles is right. Someone has to annoy Erik so he can have the joy of grumbling about being pestered.

"Hop on already, would you?" Charles coaxes. "This baby has a uranium core- we are going to tear up some terra frabricada."

"You know those aren’t the same language," Erik tells him sourly but climbs into the spare seat behind Charles anyway. It takes him a moment to get settled before he swings his legs up over Charles' and lets out an audible sigh. "If we must do this- hurry up and mush, would you?"

"They didn't actually say that," Charles says, but the sound is lost as the engine, which McCoy made to sound like a tractor somehow, starts up.

Then they're off, two war heroes tearing through the streets they saved, safe in the knowledge that Charles is a class a pilot and Erik has the Head Guardian's ear if it turns out his friend is a worse driver than he thinks.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Charles and Erik are in the middle of getting the ATC to climb over a downed tree in North Salem when it happens. One moment, Erik is laughing and daring Charles to take on bigger obstacles. The next, he's cutting off mid-word and shaking violently. The shaking gets so violent, he nearly pitches himself off the side of the chair, his fall prevented only by Charles' quick reflexes.

"Erik?" Charles shouts, struggling to turn and actually see him. "Erik what's wrong?"

His friend says nothing, merely shakes in Charles' hands until, out of nowhere, he stops. He doesn't respond then either, just lolls in Charles’ grasp, so Charles is forced to haul Erik over the side and up onto his lap where he slumps motionless toward the ground.

"Whatever is happening," Charles tells him shakily as he gets the chair turned around, "you need to hang in there. You hear me, Erik? Don't you dare die."

It's a much longer trip back to the city than it was leaving it, but when he gets there, Scott Summers is waiting for them at the gate.

"Shit," he breathes when he sees Erik. "Lehnsherr, too?"

Charles' heart stops. "What do you mean, 'too'?"

"He means the entire upper echelon of the war guard was mysteriously poisoned," says a new voice. Charles whips his head away from Scott and toward the sound in search of the speaker and nearly falls over.

"Head Guardian Adler. What are you doing here?"

"I’ve come to collect my sole conscious officer, Guardian Xavier," the highest ranking guardian in the fleet orders. "We have much to discuss and little time to discuss it. Summers will take Guardian Lehnsherr to the Infirmary."

Scott nods and quickly slips Erik off Charles' lap and into his arms. At any other time, Charles would laugh at the sight of his friend cuddled in someone’s arms. At this one, he can only curse his decision not to go into the medical sciences as he follows his superior into the fleet’s headquarters.

His regular chair is waiting just outside, as is McCoy, who quickly helps Charles down and into it. Then the man is swinging up into the seat and driving away fast, no doubt toward the infirmary where it will be his job to care for the officers. He did it well enough to save Charles, but Charles was one man.

_It will be enough this time, too. It will._

Back in his chair, Charles follows his superior through the building, up the elevator, and into her office. He has barely put the brakes on when she drops into her chair and explains.

"Guard Captain Shaw defected," Adler tells him shortly.

Charles briefly considers feigning surprise out of respect for the post but finds he doesn’t have it in him. Between Erik’s mysterious illness and the unannounced visit with Adler, even pretending to be surprised that the colony’s most vicious glory hound defected is beyond him. The pain in his chest comes from a different source entirely- Erik. Shaw became like a father to him after Kayor was destroyed; it was Shaw who brought a young Erik to Graymalkin in the first place. To lose his father a second time, even over a man as corrupt as Shaw… "Did he give any explanation why,” he asks wearily, “or was it just the obvious?"

"The obvious. Greed and wounded pride. And now we’re down to two officers for the whole damn fleet."

"You don't mean..."

"He got the home guard as well as the war guard." Adler sighs. "You're our only experienced pilot left. Well, you and me, but I haven't been stealing into the Academy’s hangar and practicing."

"Madam Guardian, I can explain."

Adler waves his protests aside. "No need. You're a pilot, Xavier. It's in your bones. If we had a way to pilot blind, I’d be back in a ship in a heartbeat myself."

"Oh." Charles scrambles, trying to remember what they were talking about before. "What can I do, ma’am?"

"You can start by explaining how you escaped Shaw’s poison?"

Easy. "By not taking his creepy pills, I'd imagine."

"Care to elaborate."

"Shaw offered me pills he claimed would help regenerate my spine, let me walk again. I should be in a vessel, he said, and his cutting-edge supplements were the way to do that."

"And you said no?"

"Like I told him, I haven't stubbed my toe in five years, ma'am," Charles says with a shrug. "I'm fine with the way I am. Shaw seemed only annoyed at the time, but looking back, I can see his reaction being more than just annoyance that the pills he was flogging failed to get a bite."

Adler sighs. "He must have tried a similar tack with the others. If he’d been harassing underlings, I’m sure I would have heart whispers about it. But making them better pilots- damn him, but he knew his audience."

Charles never liked Shaw, but he can admit the man was convincing. If Shaw hadn’t picked such an obvious “fault” to cure, Charles might have fallen for it, too.

His fists clench at the thought of his superior going after Erik like he had Charles. Everyone knows Erik is one of the few survivors of the Kayor. He was too young to pilot when Hellfire destroyed it, but he blames himself for it anyway. He would do anything now to get an edge, swallow anything that would help him prevent losing his home a second time.

“We’re going to stop him, aren’t we?” Charles asks, forcing his hands to unclench.

The smile the Head Guardian gives him is sharp with promise.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Erik and Charles were eighteen when they met. They were paired together as part of an initiative to increase inter-guard cohesion following a miscommunication between the guards that nearly saw Hellfire ships breach the colony’s atmospheric bubble. Like his fellow war guardians in training, Erik was less than pleased with the assignment. Everyone, from fleet guardians to civilians, knew home guardians were soft.

The fact that Charles took the first opportunity on the track to blast past Erik took him by surprise. When he did it a second time, then stared Erik straight in the eyes and mirrored him kilo for kilo in the gym, Erik’s admiration had been his. Charles was angry, he was fast, and he lifted heavy. He was the opposite of everything Erik had ever heard about the home guard.

Over time, Charles softened toward him. He taught Erik tricks for stretching better. In return, Erik taught him how to stay awake longer by strategic exercise. They stopped competing to win and started competing to push each other further, and somewhere between fighting over philosophy and bemoaning Professor Howlett's penchant for ripping papers, Charles became his friend.

After Charles’ injury, Erik had expected something to change, but it never did. Charles adjusted, and he learned how to be as annoying sitting down as he was standing up. He took a position as a strategic officer, kept kicking Hellfire in the teeth by teaching the next generation, and did it in a shiny titanium chair.

It was in his third year in the chair that McCoy broached the subject of innovation. The disaster that was a floating Charles was as much his fault as Charles', but the changes kept coming. Erik will always like Charles' regular chair best, if only because his friend can do the least amount of damage in it, but so long as Charles is happy, Erik only rolls his eyes when Charles turns up in a motorized chair with an engine designed to take nitrous.

When it comes down to it, Erik has learned to keep quiet about a lot of things to keep Charles happy.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Taking a seat behind the desk, Adler says, "What we need is more panacea."

"But the Newchester branch-"

"-was destroyed, yes." She grabs an old style notepad off the corner of desk and, tracing her fingers over the top page, she reads out, "Echinacea, fresh cobra venom, and radon-rich soil. That's what we need to refine more panacea." She rips it off and hands the list to Charles. "The amounts of each are written here. Good luck, Xavier."

Charles blinks, thrown. "I- You're sending me to the surface?"

"You'll have a radiation suit."

"But I don't have a ship."

Adler's forehead wrinkles. "They didn't tell you? Lehnsherr and McCoy finished restoring Cerebro last week."

"I get to fly again?" Charles gapes at his superior, certain he's dreaming.

"You were the best pilot we ever had," Adler tells him softly. "I suspect that is still the case. I was going to send you alone to keep this under Hellfire's radar, but if you want an escort-"

"I don't,” Charles blurts. “That is- No, thank you, ma'am. Cerebro and I can handle it."

"Good. Now go."

He wheels backward, but hesitates. "A favor, Guardian?"

"Name it."

"Let me take Magneto, too. I know the passcode, and I'd like to have something with real firepower."

If she's surprised Erik shared his ship's code, Adler doesn't show it. "Good idea," she says. "And, Xavier?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Don't blow yourself up this time."

Charles smiles grimly. "I'll do my best."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Cerebro looks much the same as it did when Charles was actively piloting it, only sleeker.

"...enhanced sensors, titanium frame," Hank is saying, proudly going over the new specs as they hurry through the home guard’s hangar. "And, of course, it has a ramp now. That was Erik's doing. I completely forgot you're, you know..."

"Paralyzed?" Charles finishes, amused despite the situation. Hank can clinically request and digest the most personal details imaginable, but he still tiptoes around Charles' injury. It's frustrating, in a distant sort of way, but Charles is flying so high on the fact that he’s actually about to get back into his ship he can’t feel anything but the smile threatening to break his cheeks. "How do I get the ramp down?"

"Oh, you just-" Hank slaps the side of the ship, and with a metallic _shing!_ the bottom of the ship drops out and becomes a ramp.

"That," Charles pronounces, "is so cool."

"It was Erik's idea, too, actually," Hank admits. "He said you'd enjoy slapping something."

"How well my friend knows me," Charles says wryly, even as he swallows around a lump in his throat. He doesn't dawdle with Hank any further, instead quickly mounting the ramp and wheeling into Cerebro's heart.

The chamber is less cluttered than before, the pilot's chair gone in favor of a series of grooves spaced just right to fit his chair's wheels. Reaching up, Charles easily puts his fingers to the ignition pad and greets his ship. "Hello, old friend."

 _“Hello, Pilot,”_ says Cerebro's smooth voice. “ _Are you prepared to face the enemy, though it is stronger than you?”_

Charles smiles at the old riddle. "Do not count me beaten before I have begun, for I am mighty yet."

 _“Passcode recognized.”_ Immediately, the grooves open and his chair sinks into the floor, securing Charles' chair in place, and a series of straps and metal arms reach out to lock him into his chair. The back of Charles' neck stings as the interface takes root. When his ship speaks again, its voice is back in Charles’ head. _Welcome back, Pilot Xavier._

"Thank you, Cerebro," Charles says thickly. "Engage manual controls, will you? We have to make a quick stop before we leave."

_Manual controls activated._

"All right. Let's pick up Magneto, shall we?"

Picking up Magneto is easier said than done. The ship truly has grown to resemble its pilot: Magneto is skittish of their approach, its AI deliberately elusive when Charles and Cerebro try to communicate with it.

"Oh, for the love of- Magneto, could you just ask me the passcode?" Charles explodes after one too many pointed quips from the irascible war ship.

To his surprise, Magneto does. “ _Can you endure the price of war?”_ it queries solemnly.

"I can endure any trial," Charles tells it, sobering at the reminder that this is Erik’s ship, with a passcode intended to speak to who Erik is, "and I shall increase."

_“Passcode verified. Pilot Xavier recognized.”_

"Lock onto Cerebro, would you? We're going to need you and your weapons."

Whirring happily, Magneto rearranges itself to surround Cerebro, granting them actual weaponry and, frankly, a more intimidating appearance than Cerebro's own brain shape.

"All right, boys," Charles tells them, the old familiar get up and go of adrenalin pounding in his blood. "Let's save the colony."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Erik wakes up surrounded by sick people. He is tied down at the wrists and ankles, but he can hear the distinctive sounds- and, worse, silences- of misery that accompany the critically ill.

"Hello?" he rasps, heart pounding. "Who's there?"

"Lehnsherr?" a familiar voice asks. A moment later, it’s followed by the appearance of a face Erik knows well. "You're awake!"

"What in the depths is going on, McCoy?"

"You've been poisoned," the head of the science division explains. "Your convulsions were getting dangerous, so we had to tie you down."

"I'm not convulsing now," Erik points out.

McCoy sighs. "You will be later. Trust me."

 _Encouraging._ "You said poison?"

"Shaw gave you pills, I believe- to make you a better pilot?" Erik nods. "They were just poison, I'm afraid. A poison that temporarily enhances the senses, I admit, but still lethal over time. But we have someone working on getting the ingredients for a cure."

"Charles?" Erik guesses, which gets him a nod. "Who else?"

"Erm..."

"You didn't send him alone, did you?"

"No…"

"McCoy."

"He has Magneto."

Not quite what Erik meant, but it’s better than nothing. Magneto is a good ship; it will take care of Erik’s friend.

Erik has to admit to being surprised Charles didn't forget the passcode. And pleased. He only told Charles during a fit of sentimentality, the way the code reminded him of his home on Kayor. He hadn't expected Charles to remember it. It isn't most logical of codes, at least not to foreigners. Charles', which Erik had learned in exchange for sharing his, makes perfect sense, especially now.

A wave of exhaustion washes over him, and Erik sinks back into his bleach-scented pillow.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Cerebro rockets up through the ocean toward the surface. Charles can't help smiling at the feeling. Cerebro always was zippy for a big ship, and their time apart has only made Charles more appreciative of its agility. He doesn't even care that he’s dressed in an anti-radiation suit and that in a few hours, he's going to be out in the worst of it. For the moment, he's just excited to feel like one with his vessel again.

He looks over the list once more and reexamines his plan.

Step one, the easiest: cobra venom. After the nuclear fallout, the species that survived changed drastically. Snakes now regularly grow all around larger than humans. Luckily for Charles, his sister taught him a trick for befriending the multi-headed giants, so if he doesn't mess this up, the bucket Hank gave him for the venom should be easy to fill.

Step two: radon-rich soil. That's going to require some digging in just the right spot, but Magneto can help with that. The real issue will be finding a pocket of radon.

Step three: Echinacea. Charles has worked with Hank often enough over the years to recognize the plant. He just has trouble recalling exactly where Hank said it grows. He could radio home, but as he already phased through the artificial atmosphere- and in doing so, put himself on the bad side of the signal distorters- Hellfire agents could listen in at any time. Or worse- they could track him. He can't risk that. He will just have to hope he remembers right.

_Don’t worry, Erik. We’ll get it all in time, no matter what._

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Magneto is unhappy. Charles can’t say that’s surprising. If Erik were here, he would be grumbling and pacing around Cerebro, too. As Magneto's AI was broken when it was young, it can only use basic phrases, so it can only _beep_ and _boop_ unhappily from where Charles left the ships, but it manages to makes its point.

"Last one," Charles calls to the ships. Cerebro may not be as loud about it as Magneto, but Charles can tell his ship is unhappy with the situation, too.

Gently patting the last mutant snake on its head, Charles pulls the bucket away and slips the cover on. As he slips it between his feet on the footrest, he nearly drops it when an inquisitive tongue flicks his cheek.

"Oh!" he says, startling. "You're a friendly one, aren't you?"

The snake merely regards him somberly for a long moment before it turns and slithers away.

"Sorry, everyone," Charles tells the others, erring on the side of assuming sentience. "I'm on a time limit here, or a lot of my kind will die. And I’m not nearly so well adapted as you are to radiation. Another time perhaps?"

After a moment, most of the snakes clear out. One, however, remains, its glassy eyes hard.

Charles knows that look.

 _Damn._ He can't outrun it. He can't fight it- not and expect to win.

"Magneto," he calls, deliberately slow, not looking away from the now-rearing snake, "get ready to leave." A furious series of beeps tells him he's been obeyed. "Cerebro, prepare to make an emergency exit. Protocol Apocalypse."

_Initializing._

Charles' link lets out a warning beep. One minute before radiation exposure becomes toxic.

The snake lunges, and Charles throws his arms up, only to be yanked backwards sharply. His wheels are moving too fast for him to touch, Cerebro's magnetic beam hauling him inexorably in by the metal in his chair's balance bar and the metal woven into his radiation suit. The snake chases after him, snapping and spitting as it tries to get him in its mouth, but the beam pulls him along too quickly. Charles makes it up the waiting ramp and into Cerebro's cockpit safely and with the bucket of venom, which he places in one of the empty cabinets.

Below him, the snake begins slamming itself against Cerebro’s lower hatch.

“Depths’ sake! Knock it off, would you-”

A flash of movement out the front window distracts him, and as Charles watches, the snake he’d been petting earlier streaks across the plain and under the ship. Moments later, the banging stops.

"I," he announces, swallowing hard as he pulls his helmet off, "am going to be sick."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

The funny thing about almost losing someone is it makes people do crazy things. Things like profess their love, or confess their secrets.

In Erik's case, he's lost enough people that he knows better than to give into the urge. Finding Charles' battered body hanging suspended in the water, unconscious for who knew how long, didn't convince him to speak up about the tightness in chest he gets whenever he sees his friend. Instead, he buried his feelings deeper inside himself, where they would be safe. Where Charles dying could only hurt, not destroy him.

Dying himself, though...

Erik can't tell if he's going to shut himself away again or not. He can’t even tell if he wants to.

Shaw would tell him all he needs is anger and damn the rest, but from what Erik forced out of Hank, Shaw betrayed Erik’s second home for the people who destroyed his first. Erik isn’t even surprised. He is too tired, too sick, to feel the sting of rejection from the man he considered his father for years.

What he does have the energy to feel is the steady burn of resolution. Shaw will suffer for what he’s done. If it takes Erik the rest of his life, he will repay the traitor for every pained groan filling the infirmary.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Magneto beeps.

"Here?" Charles confirms.

Magneto beeps again.

"All right. Fire when you're ready."

No sooner has he said "fire" than Magneto is letting out a low-level pulse blast that churns up the soil, immediately following it up with another, this one causing the radiation sensors in Charles' suit to sing.

"Good job, Magneto," Charles says as he leans down and fills the bucket with radioactive dirt. "I can see why Erik is so fond of you."

The ship lets out a series of low whirrs that could almost be a grumble, and Charles has to pause in the middle of lifting the bucket.

Magneto must be missing Erik, too. They haven't been this far apart since Erik found the unwanted baby ship and adopted it.

"Don't worry, Mags. We'll save him."

 _“And the others,”_ Cerebro adds.

"We'll save all of them, yes.”

Magneto beeps softly.

If, as he deposits the bucket in its particular radiation-blocking box, Charles feels a rush of fear for his brothers and sisters in arms that sets his head spinning, then that's natural. He hasn't had to compartmentalize in years. Things are going to be messier than they were last time he flew a mission.

He can still do this. He was the best pilot back then, and he’s a damn good one now, too. Erik is counting on him; Charles won’t let him down.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Raven comes to visit him when Erik is just moving out of the convulsing stage. Unfortunately, as he learned from the girl in the cot next to his, that just means he's about to enter the vomiting stage.

"Gross," Raven informs him as he leans over and empties his stomach into the waiting basket.

Erik would tell her to go away if he had the energy. As it is, he settles for a grunt.

"I just wanted to be sure you weren't dead," she continues, keeping a safe distance between him and her shoes. "It would upset my brother if you were."

Summoning the last of his energy reserves, Erik manages to flip her off, which only makes her laugh.

"Hank says you should drink some of this," she says, tossing him a bottle.

It hits the bed, label side up, and Erik finds the energy to wince.

"Erik, come on."

He glares at her.

"Don't make me tell Charles you died because you were too manly to drink something just because it’s usually for children," Raven tells him.

“Tell him I died because that stuff is disgusting.”

One cot over, Angel's scratchy voice says, "Drink it. You're going to experience the other end soon, too."

Erik doesn't need to be told what “the other end” will entail. Picking up the bottle, he struggles with the cap for a long moment, sweating and panting from the effort, until Raven picks her way over and opens it for him. She says nothing as he takes a swallow, but some of the tension in her shoulders dissolves.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

The Echinacea, when Charles finds it, is burning. All of it, in one great pile, with more being thrown on as Charles watches from his hiding place in a thicket of trees behind the Hellfire warriors. Evening is falling hard, and if he takes a mental step back, Charles can almost appreciate that the pile makes a glorious bonfire, bright as it is against the darkness.

Charles is not interested in the fire anymore, though. He hasn’t been from the moment he recognized there was going to be no salvaging any of the plant. Disappointment, he knows, is temporary. Burnt Echinacea may be useless, but information is not. The Hellfire warriors are still attending the pyre, and if Charles is any judge, he’s guessing they mean to stay there for a while.

 _Staying_ , as any first year at the Academy knows, really means _talking_.

Rolling quietly back to his ship, he begins formulating a plan. It begins with some quick changes to Cerebro’s settings and a little help from Magneto, and from that, he manages to identify and tap into the Hellfire warriors’ radio frequency.

 _“Don't we need this stuff?”_ asks a voice.

 _“Shaw says the Guardians will be so weak, they can't stand up, let alone fight,”_ a second says, dismissive. _“Even if they could, they’ll die without panacea, which he made sure they couldn’t make.”_

_“Yeah, but-”_

_“Do you two ever shut up?”_ groans a third. _“We have a supply of our own back on Hellfire. The Navy will take out Graymalkin, we'll be heroes, and all we have to do is stand here.”_

Charles clicks the transmission off. He should have known.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Erik refuses the second bottle Raven throws at him and the third. Not out of pride, but self-preservation. Nothing stays down, and it hurts too much to force anything down just to have it come back up.

He gets a break after the third, in a way, when his guts make the promised bid for freedom and he gets to lock himself in a bathroom, away from pestering Academy brats who haven’t learned to respect rank.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Back in the water and only slightly nauseated from the third dose of radiation, Charles has a plan. Magneto thinks it's a bad plan but wants to do it. Cerebro thinks it's a bad plan and wants Charles to consider not doing it.

"Too late," Charles says as he shimmies into the tight-fitting red and white uniform Hellfire's military scientists wear. "Engage incognito mode, Hellfire discovery shuttle function."

Cerebro does as he commands, and the walls pulse as the spectrum shield activates.

"We have two hours to do this," Charles thinks aloud. "I need the two of you to behave like regular ships while we’re in Hellfire waters. You understand?"

Magneto beeps its agreement right away. Cerebro takes longer.

 _You will be careful, Pilot,_ it warns.

"I'm always careful," Charles reminds it.

_Last time you flew me, you got us shot._

"I did, and I'm sorry about that. Friends don't get friends shot."

The ship doesn't laugh. _Don't get caught, Pilot Xavier._

Charles smiles. "I knew I was right when I chose you. Now, let's see how Hellfire likes thievery."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

"You look awful," Angel informs him.

"So do you," he points out. She is shivering despite having a stack of blankets piled around her. Erik envies her the cold. He's stripped down as far as decency permits and covered in ice packs but still sweating heavily.

"Why do you think Shaw left?"

Erik shrugs and quickly regrets it when his guts roll threateningly. "He's a bastard. He likes money and power, and Hellfire promised him more than he's getting here. Why? You want to join him?"

"And give up Tempest?" Angel shakes her head. "Never."

"So why does it matter?"

Before she can answer, Angel’s cough returns. It’s a horrible, wet sound Erik thought they were past. It wracks through her, shaking her tiny frame, and just keeps going until tears are streaming down her cheeks. When the fit finally stops, she collapses back and gasps for air, her lungs wheezing as she struggles to catch her breath.

"It matters," Angel rattles, "because if Shaw went for money and glory, he didn't go alone."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

For the second time in his life, Charles is surrounded by Hellfire warriors. This time, though, he isn't holding the line in battle. He isn't the flank to be overrun. He's a sole agent, infiltrating the heart of the enemy. Naturally, Hellfire's heart has spikes.

"Quested?" Charles asks loudly, frowning at one of the men aiming a laser rifle at him. "You deserted?"

The man nods but keeps his weapon trained on Charles.

“But why?”

Quested shrugs. “Better retirement outlook.”

Given the life expectancy of Graymalkin’s guardians, he has a point.

 _Hurry up,_ Charles thinks irritably, trying not to be too obvious about looking for a certain face in the crowd. He needs the star of the show to make his grand entrance and flounce off before things can progress. "Let me guess,” he says, hoping to hurry things along. “That transmission was a plant, wasn’t it?" _Of course it was. No human could endure that much radiation._

"A little late to be logical," Shaw purrs, finally emerging from nowhere good. "So much for being Graymalkin's top strategist."

Charles mirrors the man's sickly smile. "Actually, that's Erik. I find strategy boring. Tactics, however..." He glances toward the nearest shelf of Echinacea and smiles. "I'm very good with tight spots."

Shaw’s fists clench. "I'm going to disintegrate you and your pathetic colony."

"You will try."

Shaw lets out a bark of a laugh before shaking his head and walking away. "See you in the depths, Xavier!" he calls over his shoulder. "Don't die too quickly."

The circle tightens after Shaw leaves.

"You know," Charles observes lightly, "I'm getting tired of you boys pulling this circle trick."

"We'll stop when someone beats it," Quested growls.

Charles smiles. "It must be my lucky day, because today, gentlemen, your little trick isn’t going to cut it."

Self-control broken, Quested yells, "Fire!"

As he does, Charles throws himself forward, falling onto his hands and ducking under the cover of the high, false back of his chair. The lasers bounce harmlessly off the special coating Hank put on the metal and scatter back toward the men who fired them. Taking advantage of Hellfire's momentary distraction, Charles pulls a sonic grenade from behind his back and throws it. Even plugging his ears doesn't eliminate the piercing burst of percussion that sends the Hellfire operatives screaming to their knees.

Dragging himself over to the nearest wall, he struggles to right himself. The Hellfire warriors are slowly beginning to recover from the blast. Taking a long, deep breath, Charles concentrates on disengaging himself from his chair. Freed, he reaches back and rights it before using the wall to right himself and physically haul his body up into the seat. It takes too long, but none of the warriors is able to stand upright either.

Back in his chair, he ignores the pain in his palms and hurriedly wheels himself toward the shelves, grabs three containers, stacks them between his legs, and takes off out of the warehouse and down the street.

The dock where the ships are waiting is surrounded by the tail end of Shaw's force. Charles powers toward them, arms screaming, moving away from the rallying foot troops too fast to stop in time.

"Catch me, for depths' sake!" he shouts as he flies off the end of the dock.

Cerebro's beam locks onto him just as Charles' feet get wet.

"Nice catch," he pants, only a little sarcastic, as he rolls into place and the locks click together. "Now, to beat them home."

 _Impossible,_ Cerebro interjects.

Magneto beeps at it, offended.

"Ordinarily, I would agree," Charles tells them before they can turn on each other. "But we have a shortcut: we're going through the depths."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

"Hey, Lehnsherr?"

Erik looks up from his contemplation of his fingers. They turned purple some time ago. "What?"

"Tell me about the depths."

Attention narrowing to his neighbor, he slowly shakes his head. "You know talking about that is a no-go. There are Academy students walking around. Of whom you are one."

"Come on," Angel urges, weakly struggling onto her side. "I'm dying here. They aren’t listening, and I promise I won't use it to upset any of the underclassmen I’m not going to see."

The crux of the issue is, Erik has never thought keeping the depths a secret is the right choice, but he doesn’t want to go against Adler either. Angel is one of Frost’s favorites, though, and that in itself speaks volumes to her character. Of all the people Erik could be stuck dying with, Angel has been one of the most tolerable.

Sighing, Erik gives in. "What do you want to know?"

"What are they?" Angel asks, voice cracking.

"Everything we aren't." At her unimpressed expression, Erik lets out a sigh. "We live in the light, yes? All the colonies have artificial suns, and the paths that link the colonies together are lit by our doing as well. But we can’t light up the whole of the ocean. Everything left in the dark belongs to the depths."

"Why do people swear by them if they're just bits of ocean?"

"Because they aren't ‘bits’ of ocean. The depths _are_ the ocean. Our colonies are tiny, and the water around us is full of life. Not all that life is friendly. You remember the first lesson of the ocean, don’t you?"

Angel smiles grimly. "Don't mess with her."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

_Two ships followed us._

Charles nods but, unlike Cerebro, remains unconcerned. "Stupid of them."

_Stupid of us._

"The depths won't touch us."

Magneto beeps a question.

"Because we aren't going to attack anyone," Charles explains. "The depths tolerate humanity if we keep to ourselves. So long as we sail quietly, weapons away, the depths will leave us alone." Glancing behind them, Charles watches their pursuers arm their blasters. "All we have to do is survive, and we can do that, can't we, Magneto?"

The ship boops seriously.

"Good ship. Now, let's see how hungry the depths are."

The Hellfire ships take a while, but they are products of their upbringing. Hellfire’s instructors are too bloodthirsty by half- if they weren’t, maybe they would have made a pact with the living ships, too. Wouldn’t that be a mess? They aren’t less bloodthirsty, though, and their ships aren’t sentient.

Inevitably, the pursuers fire, and Charles swivels to watch as Cerebro pivots sideways and the blasts disperse harmlessly ahead of them.

Neither ship gets a second chance to fire on them. A giant tentacle covered in suckers grabs both and drags them down into the inky black below.

Tense seconds click by, but the depths don't reach for them.

"See?" Charles crows shakily. "They disrespected the depths, so they got crushed." Lightly thumping himself once over his heart, Charles mutters the benediction for those claimed by the depths. "Rest in darkness."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Angel is struggling to breathe. Erik can't help her, because he is no better. His ears are full of the sounds of rattling, wheezing breaths. He can't tell if they belong to him, her, or someone else entirely.

He hallucinates and knows he is but is helpless against the surging emotions that buffet him between despair and fear and joy and back into despair. He sees his mother and father. His sister and their uncle. They tell him they miss him. Is he happy? Is he on the right path?

Charles comes after them.  He looks like he did when Erik found him after his last confrontation with Hellfire. His suit is burnt where the interface overheated and caught fire before the water put the fire out. This time Erik doesn’t have Magneto, and hanging in the water near Charles is his wheelchair.

The screaming is his own voice, but thinning, rasping as it scratches out his ravaged throat until it cracks and disappears.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

_Graymalkin, thirty seconds away._

Charles lets out a breath but doesn't let himself relax yet. "We've still got to phase through and get the shopping to Hank."

_Then we repel the Hellfire forces._

"And that," Charles agrees. "But first: prepare to phase."

_Preparations underway. Switching from autopilot to coast._

If Charles had to pick a least favorite part of underwater flight, it would be phasing. Sure, the last accident was two years ago, but still. Messing with time and atomic vibration is the sort of thing gods do.

And it disagrees with his gut.

He lets out a breath when he stops feeling like he’s made of gelatin and looks around. Everything looks right but you never know. He could be off by a day or a decade. Phasing isn't as exact a science as anyone would like.

"Charles!"

Below them, Scott is waving his hands wildly.

"Summers!" Charles shouts, stopping Cerebro and opening the lower hatch so the ramp can slide open.

"Do you get everything?"

It takes Charles some time, but he finds a way to grab all five containers and make his way down the ramp with them.

"How are they?" Charles asks, handing over the jars. "Erik- Is Erik all right?"

"Not well. We've lost two so far, but I don’t think Guardian Lehnsherr was one of them.” Rearranging the containers, Scott casts a look toward the infirmary. “If you don't mind, I really do have to get these to Dr. McCoy."

Charles nods, waving Hank on. He wants to check on Erik, but something holds him back. He can't put his finger on what is telling him not to go, only that he shouldn't bother Erik yet.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Erik cries out in his sleep, the words silenced from all his shouting, as he lashes out against enemies only he can see. "Not again,” he whimpers. “I can’t- No, not again. Stay with me…"

 

**_xxx_ **

 

"Here's the plan," Charles tells the hall of guardians not sick with Shaw's poison, all of them juniors or in their last year at the Academy. "Knock out as many ships as you can."

"That's it?" one near the front asks, looking skeptical.

Charles fights not to snap at her. "There are roughly one hundred of us and more than a thousand of them. All we can do is knock down as many as we can before they do the same to us."

"That's a terrible speech," says another guardian Charles doesn't know.

"You want a speech?” he asks as another wave of nausea overtakes him. “Fine. We're about to get slaughtered. This isn't Sparta. They had three hundred fighters. We're going out there to protect our home. We’re better trained and more determined. We're going to get destroyed, but we’re going to damn well suit up and fight anyway, because when we're gone, Graymalkin is gone. So the least we can do is thin the herd for the fighters on the ground. Speech over."

The room turns deathly silent until someone starts slow clapping. When Charles looks toward the door, his sister is standing there in an immaculate pilot's suit. She walks calmly past all the curious onlookers toward him. "Somebody's cranky," she says quietly when she reaches him. Charles glares at her, which she ignores. "Really, Charles. You just did a ten-man job on your own. Go take a nap."

As much as he hates to admit it, his sister has a point.

"You better not leave me behind," he warns.

Raven holds her hands up, palms out. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Yes, you would."

"True, but I wouldn't actually do it."

"Yes, you would." Charles chuckles tiredly. "But I’ll take the nap anyway. I'd get shot down right away if I went out like this."

As he rolls past, she puts a hand on his arm. "Good job, big brother."

"Buy me a drink when this is over," he tells her wearily.

"Will do," she says softly, right before she snaps into a formal guardian stance and takes his place at the head of the room.

Charles wheels himself away, too tired even to stay and listen.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

The first thing Erik becomes aware of is a presence looming over him. Then it coalesces into a hand pinching his nose and something bitter filling his mouth, a second hand clamping down on his lips and forcing him to swallow the foul liquid.

"Good man," says a distorted voice. "Now we just have to wait for the effects to take hold."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Charles collapses on his bed with a heavy sigh of relief. He aches like no one has any right to, he has no idea if Erik is all right, the infirmary is sealed from the inside, and in an hour, Charles is going to get blown to kingdom come.

At least his bed is soft.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Angel wakes up feeling jittery and amped up. When she looks around, Lehnsherr is gone, and for a long moment, all she can think is, _But I liked him._ Then someone is shining a light in her eyes and asking how she feels.

She answers honestly. "Ready to kick Hellfire in the ass."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Magneto is gone when Charles returns to the hangar, and Cerebro refuses to tell him where the other ship went. Charles lets it go with only a little pushing. He has a real fight to win, and arguing with Cerebro would only be a waste of energy.

"Ready to crack some hulls?" Charles asks as Cerebro whirrs to all systems go.

 _I am always ready,_ the AI says, the interface clicking into place at the base of Charles' skull.

"Then let’s go."

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Charles wearily takes his place at the front of the home guard. His arms are killing him, and from the way the interface is prickling, Cerebro is little better. They hover in place as Charles watches in relief as the invading army comes to a stop outside the colony’s bubble. Dozens at a time attempt to break the barrier, and wave after wave, they fail to make it through.

The first Hellfire ship that successfully phases through Graymalkin's protective bubble gets immediately shot down by a war guardian. The man roars over the link, and as much as Charles wants to dissuade that kind of behavior- his ears are already ringing, and his comrade is still going- he can empathize with the impulse.

Soon, though, the number getting through grows larger than the number failing, and the Guardians get to work.

Charles, like his fellow home guardians, fights with his ship's tough exterior as his main weapon, using bursts of speed to drive Cerebro straight through other vessels. On the inside of the bubble, they spiral to the ground and catch fire. Outside the bubble, they fall to the dark of the depths.

This is their home. No Hellfire pilot can match their ease at phasing through Graymalkin’s particular bubble; no Hellfire pilot knows there are magnetic waves that can help or hinder an attack if you know how to use them.

Guiding his ship around after finally downing an agile little gunship, Charles catches sight of a group of ships headed through the interior toward the war guard’s hangar. He takes out two in one well-timed burst, lets Cerebro hit the bubble and bounce off it, and uses a passing magnetic wave to give them a boost on their way to slam through the last one.

Around him, the others are doing the same.

There are just too many Hellfire ships, though. Charles loses two home guardians in one attack. Then a third. A fourth. The war guard is taking similar losses, but Hellfire just keeps coming. Charles and Cerebro keep fighting, but they are both quickly running out of juice. They can both feel every year that’s passed since they flew aggressively.

The others are faring little better, and that's when he decides it's time to risk going for the throat.

Shaw’s ship must be the modified Seawolf submarine. It's the only one of its kind in the field, and Shaw is just egotistical enough to choose it.

 _I am going to knock you on your ass,_ Charles thinks darkly as he lines up Cerebro for a direct assault on the submarine.

The first collision knocks Shaw off course but fails to do significant damage. The second leaves a dent in the side, the force of which throws Charles hard against the harness keeping him in his chair, but also fails to do any real damage. The third misses entirely.

On the fourth try, Shaw catches them squarely with a missile and sends them reeling. Cerebro struggles to recover as they hit and accidentally phase through the bubble. The sensors and interface grow hot as they plummet toward the depths, signaling a problem in Cerebro’s core, and Charles can’t help with a manual override, too winded from the collision and what feels like cracked ribs.

Above them, phasing through the bubble to face them squarely, the Seawolf draws slowly nearer.  It locks its weapons on Cerebro, and the waters light up with the same eerie red glow as the last time they faced Hellfire together.

The water around them begins to grow darker.

"Well," Charles says tightly, "I hate to say it, Cerebro, but I think this is us. Sorry about getting you blown up again."

Cerebro says nothing. Whether it cannot or simply will not, the result is the same. Relaxing against the back of his chair, Charles prepares himself for Shaw’s worst. Whatever comes, comes.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

The submarine fires, and Cerebro takes a second direct hit. The cockpit catches fire, but Charles watches it in a daze. The interface is pounding, flooding him with endorphins his brain can barely process, as Cerebro tries to blot out the pain of being set alight from within.

Far above them, barely visible through the rushing darkness, a ship, sleek and deep purple, bursts seamlessly through the bubble. It shoots over the line of invading ships, seemingly harmlessly, but Charles knows better.

The magnetic net must snare twenty ships before Magneto releases it, throwing them back into their comrades, and the whole area explodes.

"Erik?" Charles asks drowsily over the link. "Is that you?"

 _"Of course it's me,"_ Erik grumbles. _"Where are you?"_

"We're in the depths."

_"Get out of there!"_

"Too late." Charles sighs. Everything is black, except what is on fire inside Cerebro. "Tell my sister to take your job when you're too old to do it. It should be any time now."

Erik's link crackles. _"Don't."_

"I'm sorry, old friend.” Charles is sorry, sort of. It’s difficult to be anything other than lightheaded with Cerebro buzzing in his skull. “At least I'll get another statue, right?"

His friend swallows audibly, and Charles could almost laugh. Erik likes to think he’s different, broken, but he’s a man nonetheless, and men are predictable. He’s going to make a confession any moment now. _"Charles, I-"_

"Don’t worry,” Charles tells him, cutting off any embarrassing revelations from the rest of the guardians. He’s riding so high on Cerebro’s distress he barely cares that the ship’s control panel just fell off the ceiling. “I’ll be fine, probably."

_"You will not be fine in the depths!"_

"Goodbye, Erik. Make sure my next statue gets a groovy chair."

Charles clicks the link off before Erik can reply.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Erik stares out the front window for a long time. If he squints, he can almost see Charles as he sinks deeper into the darkness.

“Magneto,” he says for the fifth time, “go after them.”

The ship beeps a refusal, and they stay as they are, floating below the battle.

“Engage the manual override.”

_Manual override not engaged._

“We can’t just sit here,” Erik shouts. “We can’t let them die.”

Magneto beeps softly, its lights dimming almost mournfully as it continues to refuse to follow Charles and Cerebro into the depths.

“Then what?”

For a long moment, the ship says nothing, its signal lights flashing in thought. It takes Magneto a while, sometimes, if it has to convey something specific or complex. That’s the problem with unnatural hybrids- they’re usually born with things out of place or functions missing, but there isn’t a faster or more brutal ship in the seven colonies than Magneto.

When Magneto does answer, it’s with a pulse of anger and a snippet of its memory of Shaw shooting down Cerebro.

“Vengeance, my friend? That’s your alternative?”

The ship boops an affirmative, and despite the part of him that balks at turning against the man who raised him, Erik sets his sights on Shaw.

“Magneto,” he says through gritted teeth, “get your pulse canons ready, and aim them at that submarine.”

His ship beeps furiously, and through the interface, Erik feels his own helpless rage mirrored in Magneto.

_Target locked._

“Good.” Swallowing hard, Erik orders, “Now do what you were made to do.”

 

**_xxx_ **

 

The canons catch Shaw off-guard, but they don’t destroy the ship. Erik isn’t looking to break Shaw yet; he wants to make the man work before his death. Magneto is in perfect sync with Erik, and the interface rapidly begins to hum with the anticipation of the chase.

Shaw breaks for more crowded waters, seeking shelter in numbers, but Magneto is faster. Erik cuts smoothly into the empty water between Shaw and safety.

Over the link comes Shaw’s voice. _“Come now, Erik. You don’t need to do this.”_

Erik grits his teeth. “Hellfire didn’t have to kill my family.”

_“Kayor was unfortunate, but they were warned. We gave them a day to evacuate.”_

“Generous. Unfortunately, I’m only going to give you five minutes.”

 _“Best of luck with that, my boy,”_ Shaw says smoothly, setting Erik’s teeth on edge. _“Don’t forget who taught you all you know.”_ Then the submarine is powering away, and Erik can only urge Magneto to give chase.

They dodge through the stream of Hellfire warships and the Graymalkin ships chasing them. Shaw maneuvers better in his submarine than he has any right to do, which forces Erik and Magneto to work at keeping up, but it isn’t enough to shake them.

Erik can’t get a steady lock on Shaw, and with so many of his own people nearby, Erik can’t risk firing on him without it.

With every second that passes with Shaw still intact, Erik’s hands shake harder.

Magneto is doing more work than he is when a voice comes over the link.

_“Drive him to the left.”_

Erik knows that voice, and he knows what it’s promising. Shaw may have taught Erik, but he wasn’t the only one to do so. Erik doesn’t hesitate. Swinging Magneto to the right, he pushes the ship harder, hard enough Magneto will risk hurting itself by complying, and Shaw, predictably, dodges to the left. As he does, a third ship powers up from below.

Shaw's own abandoned ship, the colossal Black Bishop, doesn’t slow as it smashes bodily through the Seawolf and tears it to pieces.

Angel’s shout of victory serves as a rallying call for Graymalkin; the first to fight, who had been flagging, find their strength. Their shouts are loud and wordless over the link, but Erik understands them perfectly.

Following Angel are the other guardians, all in various levels of recovery, all determined to join the ranks in pushing the invaders back. And they do. Through force of will, they drive Hellfire out of Graymalkin and chase the ships back to their own colony.

Erik doesn't join them. He and Magneto instead race along the lowest level above the depths for any sign of Charles and Cerebro, but they come up with nothing. Not even a scrap of the ship comes floating up toward the surface.

They keep searching anyway.

Eventually, Raven comes and gets them. Her Academy ship is the sane model as Charles' was. A standard form Manta Ray, equipped with powerful weapons but physically vulnerable. The opposite of Cerebro.

"It's enough," she tells him, voice catching, and Erik wants to fight her. He wants to shout that Charles is alive, but no one survives the depths, not even Charles Xavier.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Everyone is either celebrating or recovering, or doing a bit of both. Erik can’t stomach the thought of drinking and laughing when his best friend is gone to the depths, so he avoids the commissary. He dodges past Head Guardian Adler, too prickly with grief to bear her knowing looks.

Raven meets him on the ramp in the back of the building where Charles lived. She says nothing, just sits down beside him and looks out at the water. After a while, she lays her head on his shoulder, and he puts his arm around her. They don’t break the silence, except when Raven’s breaths turn into sniffles.

Erik lets her cry herself out, then holds her as she dozes fitfully against him.

She’s muttering about not being there to steal anything when Erik sees it: movement in the depths. The waters swirl as if being stirred until at last something, barely a fleck, gets ejected forcefully toward the bubble. It lands with barely a thump at the top of the bubble, the force no more than that of a curious fish, but Erik knows.

Raven’s head slips off his shoulder as he jumps to his feet, and her indignant shout follows him as he calls for Magneto.

His ship is at his side in a moment, pausing only to let Erik hop inside before they rocket to the top of the bubble where the speck landed.

Magneto beeps softly, and Erik reminds himself not to be hopeful. There's no way he saw what he thinks he saw. Even if he did, it might only be pieces…

"Mother of the depths," he curses, because there, above them, burned from the inside out, is Cerebro. "Get it through!"

They do, after a few false starts, and Magneto is barely solid mass again before Erik opens the cockpit and jumps out, headed straight for Cerebro’s nearest hatch.

He yanks it open, and water rushes out, but there-

Erik pulls Charles from the wreckage of his chair and ship, cringes at how cold Charles' body is when he pulls his friend close.

"What in the depths was that?" Erik tells him as he rocks Charles back and forth. Somewhere far away, Raven is yelling. "You couldn’t wait a minute longer? You couldn’t let me save you just this once? You had to see the depths yourself, is that it, you stupid man?"

The yelling gets louder, and before he knows what’s happening, Raven is grabbing Charles. “What in the depths are you doing, Erik? He’s still alive!”

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Charles hurts.

When he opens his eyes, he immediately wishes he hadn’t. The room is over-bright, and someone put a lightbulb right above his head. Groaning, he reaches for a pillow but comes up short. All he can feel is the scratch of hospital blankets around his floating body. He doesn’t like the floating feeling. It’s creepy.

“Charles?” a soft voice asks. “Are you awake?”

 _Erik?_ “Did you die, too?” Charles asks, annoyed. “You weren’t supposed to do that.”

“No, Charles. I’m alive.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Charles considers that for a moment. “But I wanted another statue.”

Erik sighs. “You’ll just have to be content with surviving.”

“But I want one.”

“Too bad.”

“A real friend would get me a statue.”

Something- a chair?- squeaks as Erik moves. A moment later, Charles hears a series of pops and a loud groan as Erik stretches. His footsteps drag as he trudges over to where Charles is floating.

“You aren’t floating. Hank just gave you the good stuff.”

That makes sense. “Can you turn down the lights?” Charles asks, resolutely not whining. “And where are my pillows? Have they been turning me, or am I going to find out I have sores when I get up?”

“Last I checked, you were fine.”

“So someone did turn me over like a pig on a roast?” Erik deliberately says nothing, and Charles coos, warmed. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know why you’re acting like it matters,” Erik whines. “You’re the one who decided I should know how to do it.”

Charles remembers that evening fondly. The two of them had been drinking in celebration of fending off a Hellfire invasion when it occurred to Charles that if anything happened to him, it would fall to Raven and Erik to take care of him. He hadn’t thought Erik would agree to Charles’ salacious offer to teach his friend how to spit roast, but with a roll of his eyes, Erik had. The series of fumbling attempts at rolling Charles over on the floor that followed would have been distressing if it hadn’t been so funny.

“You’re a good friend, Erik.” Reaching out, Charles flaps around for a few seconds before Erik catches on and takes his hand. “I’m sorry about Shaw.”

“I’m not,” Erik says, grip tightening gently.

“He _is_ dead, isn’t he?”

“He is. Angel made sure of that.”

“Angel?” Charles asks. There is only one Angel he can think of, and he can’t imagine how Erik, who barely knows anyone not in their Academy class, met her. And to call her by her given name, rather than her title… “You must mean Angel Salvadore. How do you know her?”

“We were in the infirmary together. How do _you_ know her?”

Charles smiles. “I taught her at the Academy for a year. Smart girl, if rather angry.”

“She ripped his ship apart with the Black Bishop.”

“Frost must be pleased, though I do wonder how she knew the passcode.”

“I wouldn’t wonder if I were you. She did, and she brought him down. That’s all that matters.”

They fall quiet after that. Charles is used to being tired, but he hasn’t nearly died in a long time. It’s more tiring than he remembered. Erik keeps hold of Charles’ hand, his silence radiating thoughtfulness. Charles can almost hear him weighing whether or not to say whatever he’s thinking. Rather than hurry him, Charles lets his mind wander.

In the distance, he can sense the pain the drugs have moved beyond his reach. He doesn’t try to touch it; experience has taught him better than to try. He’s going to have to deal with it eventually, and when he does, he’s going to hate himself if he hurried it along.

He’s moved on to thinking about what he’s going to eat first when they let him out when Erik interrupts. “Charles?”

“Yes?”

Swallowing loudly, Erik audibly forces himself to say, “How out of it are you?”

Charles gives the question the thought Erik clearly wants him to give it- and accidentally gives it a little more, if the snappy way Erik calls his name is any indication. “Whoops,” Charles says, fighting the urge to laugh, “must have gotten lost. I’m not that out of it, though. Just a little… wander-y.”

“This should wait, then. And you should sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Charles assures him. “What did you want to say?”

“It can wait. It doesn’t matter.” Charles raises his brows. He doesn’t have to see Erik to know when his friend is lying. Erik, whose eyes are more than likely open, coughs. “All right. It does matter.”

Patting Erik’s hand with his free hand, Charles gives him an encouraging smile.

“Do you have to do that?” Erik asks, exasperated.

“Do you have to equivocate?”

“I hate when you do this.”

“You could avoid it by just spitting out what’s got you so bothered,” Charles says.

“That’s what you want?” Erik asks. Charles nods. “Fine. I love you.”

Charles nods- then stops, heart hammering in his chest. “What was that?”

Hand tightening around Charles’, Erik repeats himself. “I love you.”

“But you never- I didn’t- Since when?”

Erik chuckles darkly, less amused than pained. “I don’t know. At least since the last time you wrecked Cerebro.”

It occurs to Charles that his best friend is better at keeping things from him than he realized. Momentarily distracted from Erik’s bombshell, he demands, “Cerebro! Dear depths, how is my ship?”

“Surviving. Not happy about you nearly killing it a second time.”

That’s fair. “Poor lamb, I should probably put in for a new one and let Cerebro retire.” Charles’ thoughts start to wander, but the feeling of Erik surreptitiously trying to pull away drags him back to the moment. “Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to try to distract me and escape out the window.”

His friend sighs. “This isn’t easy for me, Charles.”

“I know it isn’t. But it would be easier if you sat down.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It would if you did it.”

The bed dips as Erik carefully settles himself on the edge of the bed. He lets go of Charles’ hand as he does, and Charles allows it.

Charles smiles to himself. _Gotcha._

Wrapping the fingers of his liberated hand in the hem of Erik’s shirt takes some effort but gets markedly easier when Charles opens his eyes. He squints against the light as he tugs.

Unimpressed, Erik grouches, “What are you doing?”

“Getting you to lie down.”

“Why?”

“Because my best friend just told me he loves me, and I don’t trust him not to run off before I can tell him I love him, too.”

“You do?” Erik asks sharply, and the bed shakes as he twists to look at Charles.

“I do.” Charles looks up at Erik and finally does it without trying to keep everything he feels off his face. “Always have.”

“You elbowed me in the stomach the first time we met.”

“You were being a prick.”

Erik smiles wide, his nose crinkling with amusement, and wriggles up the mattress. Laying his head on the pillow, his smile only grows wider. “Yeah, I was.”

“You were a prick a lot back then.”

“Yeah, I was.” Expression softening, he murmurs, “How did you deal with me?”

“I thought you were pretty, so I sucked it up.”

Eyes rolling, Erik nevertheless scoots that little bit closer. “I should start making it up to you, shouldn’t I?”

“How do you propose you do that?”

“Like this, to start.” Then Erik is leaning in, his nose bumping gently against Charles’, and he presses their lips together in the chastest kiss Charles has had in years, before pulling away just an inch. Charles peeks his eyes open, just to check, and when he catches him looking, Erik huffs. “And like this.” He presses closer again for a second, deeper kiss. And a third, and a fourth, turning each kiss progressively hotter until Charles is clutching at the soft, stretchy fabric of Erik’s shirt and Erik whines every time they separate to catch their breath.

It isn’t a bad way to get in trouble, which they do when a nurse comes in, worried about the sudden increase in Charles’ heartrate. Erik gets out of the bed when she prompts, but he pointedly crosses his legs and sends Charles a heated look.

Charles thinks about that look a lot over the painful weeks of recovery that follow.

 

**_xxx_ **

 

Raven is laughing.

"Wow, Charles," she hiccups, "how does it feel knowing a giant squid rejected you?"

Charles narrows his eyes. "Don't make me call a nurse."

"Oh, come on!” she chortles. “You have to admit it's kind of funny."

"I do not."

"Ugh, you're no fun. Erik? You think it's kind of funny, right?"

Erik, who is situated behind Charles and has been for the last hour, shrugs. "Not as funny as him saying he wanted his statue's chair to be 'groovy'."

"Both of you can leave at any time."

"Raven, you heard him."

Charles watches his sister contemplate throwing something at Erik and, fortunately, decide against it.

"I'd just like to say, for the record, if I had found you half-drowned in Cerebro, I wouldn't have wasted time crying over your still living body before starting CPR," she says airily, "unlike some people."

Erik bares his teeth in a grimace of a smile, and Charles rolls his eyes.

"I’m glad you're alive," Raven continues as she comes over to kiss Charles' cheek. "Please stay that way for a while longer this time, would you?"

Nestled as he is between Erik’s legs and warmly ensconced in a cocoon of blankets, Charles doesn’t have to think before he says, “I will.”

From the twin snorts he gets in answer, Charles knows he hasn’t convinced them any more than he’s convinced himself. Raven lets the topic go, though, and saunters out without a backward glance.

As his sister disappears, Charles sags back against Erik. His body aches, and as much as he wanted to check in with her, pretending to be at ease around his sister is more draining than actually being in pain. Erik presses a kiss to the side of Charles’ head, one of the few places left untouched by the fire. His friend has gotten good at avoiding the healing patches, and he’s taken to nuzzling one particular patch of skin behind Charles’ ear.

It’s horribly sweet.

“You doing okay?” Erik asks, wrapping his arms around Charles.

“Just a bit tired, is all. It’s only been two days since I woke up, after all.”

“Not in too much pain?”

Charles can’t help but chuckle. “The worst of the burns are on my legs, which I conveniently barely feel.”

Erik doesn’t find it as funny as Charles does. “Let me know if it gets to be too much,” he says sternly. “You were exposed to a lot of radiation when you were on the surface. That can’t help.”

“Yes, dear.” Charles reaches up and pats at Erik’s cheek. “You’re lovely. I’m only a little dizzy, though, and my hair hasn’t started falling out, so I think we’re safe.”

“You’ve got another three weeks before you’re in the clear.”

“I got saved by the depths. That makes me a special man indeed, and you should be praising my worth, not raining impending death on my parade.”

Unconvinced, Erik wraps his arms around Charles a little tighter. “We should have saved more of the panacea for after the battle.”

“Yes, and that would have done so much good for all the guardians dead of poison,” Charles says, rolling his eyes. It hurts to do and makes his stomach roll dangerously, so he closes his eyes and slouches back against Erik’s chest. “Enough talking.”

Smoothing a hand over Charles’ hair- which had better not fall out- Erik murmurs, “Want me to go?”

“No.” Charles puts his hands over Erik’s, squeezing them tight where they rest on his belly. “I don’t want you to go anywhere again.”

“Whatever you want, Charles,” Erik promises. “Whatever you want.”

“Now that you mention it, Hank was talking about having another crack at that hoverboard wheelchair-”

_“Go to sleep.”_

Charles smiles and lets his head fall back onto Erik’s shoulder. “Yes, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically still waiting on my beta, but I didn't want to forget and miss the deadline.
> 
> Fun facts:
> 
> Two of the ingredients Charles gathers could possibly be found in a real panacea! Echinacea has been found to boost concentration, fight infections and pain, and boost white blood cell count, and it's been found that cobra venom has a chemical agent that works to relieve pain. 
> 
> The radon-rich soil was sort of a wink at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters being in New York, and upstate NY has been known to have problems with radon (though not, as it happens, in Westchester County).
> 
> "Kayor" is Yiddish for "dawn".


End file.
